The Fretful Mother's Blog

Yeah, sure, I’m afraid of people lighting up a cigarette on a plane. They could fall asleep in the lavatory and catch the toilet paper on fire. And then what would the rest of us do when it was time to wipe up? It would be a big problem. Seriously, what I’m really afraid of is when the pilot gets on the intercom and announces we’ve been given priority landing clearance because they are unable to identify the source of the smoke. What?! (more…)

You would think I would have mentioned this fear a long time ago. I’m assuming most people aren’t that fond of riots. You can count me in that lot. I’ve not really been involved in many riots (as I didn’t live in Los Angeles 15 years ago and can’t really think of any other riots, notwithstanding the annual Super Bowl meltdowns in selected cities). But I was presented with an opportunity on Nov. 17, and I ran with it. (more…)

While everyone was enjoying the lovely MU-KU football game on Saturday, I was concerned about much more pressing issues. Our upper-deck tickets. It’s really more the steep grade than the actual height that gets me. I’m picturing myself jumping up too jubilantly and launching into a free fall while the box-seat spectators stand frozen in horror at the UFO. (more…)

Remember as a kid when you’d be so excited about new shoes that you’d have to wear them home from the store? The salesperson would cut off the tags and you’d happily bounce out the door. The shoes were probably even Kangaroos, which just emphasized the bouncing. Nowadays I have no interest in bouncing. (more…)

Thanksgiving is generally my favorite holiday. It has it all: food, family and football. Unfortunately these things also combine to form some unrecognizable concoctions. Everyone is in charge of bringing a special dish for the occasion. This means your Aunt Mildred (don’t worry, she’s not on Facebook) is going to show up with a jello conglomeration. (more…)

Maybe I’m over-analyzing it, but I think my kids use cartoons as drugs. That’s all they want to do. When they are bored, hungry, tired, sad, happy, excited, constipated, whatever, the answer is always to watch a cartoon. It will solve everything. And the sad thing is that I’ve kind of begun to depend on Spongebob as well. (more…)

I understand childhood trauma might cause this fear for some, but for me it’s airport security. I’ve always avoided wearing belts when I’m flying because I didn’t know if that was something that needed to be removed (like the deadly wool sweaters and flip-flops). And I didn’t want to be yelled at either way: Stop trying to strip in front of everyone! or Stop right there and undo your pants! I know you’ve seen those screeners, and they are not who you want yelling this stuff at you. (more…)

My first thought upon arriving at the metro station from the airport in Athens was that I may have made a horrible mistake. I cannot read Greek. It’s all Greek to me. And there was not a single drop of English anywhere. WTF? Did they not know I was American? Did they think I was going to change my life around to fit into their little country? These Greeks must be some selfish bastards, I thought. (more…)

I’ve been spending a lot of times in airplanes lately, and you might think that seeing the top side of clouds would make me feel less anxious about what it is they are trying to hide. It’s bad enough on the ground, looking up and wondering what’s going on behind the clouds. I really do hope the sun is not hurtling toward us. Or a flock of birds is massing for attack. Or a catapulted pumpkin. (more…)

It’s getting close to “Black Friday,” when the stores have such crazy deals that people stampede into the stores, elbows and purses akimbo. I hope nobody gets hurt this year, but in any case, it won’t be me. Every time I hear “Wet cleanup on aisle seven” my mind fills in the blanks. Somebody spontaneously combusted. There’s a spleen on the floor. The lobsters escaped from the tank and are waving their noodly antennae menacingly at clerks and consumers. Household chemicals have fallen to the floor and a toxic cloud is billowing toward me. Spilled syrup is ensnaring shoppers like flypaper. (more…)